Phone call

Mick nods absentmindedly as he ponders too many things at once. "Alright... thanks."

Hearing BJ's voice raised, he looks over to the other end of the room, his eyebrows lifting. He hadn't even realized that BJ had gone to Dylan at all, let alone started talking to him. Seeing the little boy head off to the toy room, Mick rises from the table, determined to head off any problems before they even started.

"I'll be right back to get some breakfast," he informs Rosetta. Wandering to the other room, he leans on the doorway, a grin on his face as he watches BJ play. "Hey, Bud." He squats down to give BJ a morning hug. "What were you and Dylan talking about?"


Leo returns Ryan's kiss, grinning as she walked away. But once he turns back to his engine, his expression becomes a more pensive one. Had Ryan just seemed... Nah. He shakes his head. It was an imagined vibe, he was sure.


Scott hangs up with Dalton and just lies in bed for at least half an hour before he finally gets up. Showering and getting dressed, he gets ready to leave, stops, then decides to take Domino with him.

Leaving the house, his mind is so far away that his cell phone is forgotten on the kitchen table, along with his lunch plans with Hope. Right now, only one thing was on his mind...


"...it doesn't work that way." Carson wanders into the living room from the kitchen, a glass of water for Scott and a beer for himself. Scott had come looking for him after finding out that Mom and Pop's would be closed for two weeks. Finding out about Scott's nightmare bothered him, but he tried to reassure Scott anyway.

"What the Agency put in your mind... you control, not them." He sits down in his chair again, looking at Scott, who sat on the couch. "You see?"

"Kind of." Scott takes the glass of water and fiddles with it before drinking several sips. Domino sat at his feet, leery about being in this strange apartment, but behaving. "But it was so real. I-"

"It wasn't real, Scott," Carson emphasizes. "It was a dream, brought on by one of your biggest fears - betraying your friends. But it won't happen. Right now, you're struggling to control the information that comes to mind, but you still make your own choices and actions. Take me for example."

He gestures with his arms. "What do you see?"

"Your full name... rank... ID number... scrolling case files... names... pictures...."

"Okay, stop." Carson shows his palm. "You hate me?"

"I... I don't know. I don't want to... I try not to..."

"You can say yes if you want."

"Okay... a part of me does."

"You gonna come slug me?"

"No."

"What's stopping you?"

"I know it's... it's wrong. I know I shouldn't hate you, let alone slug you. That's... that's not who I want to be."

Carson cocks his head. "See? You're in control, mate, not the Agency. You've got all that information floating around in your head but you get to decide what to do with it, not them." He nods. "I have total confidence that one day you'll be able to ignore all of it until you want the information. And when you do, you can use it against the Agency. Sure, some of the data you have in your brain will become outdated. But some won't. If you work at it, when you see me, you'll just see me... Carson Banks... not a file full of data."


Reese stares at the spiral notepad in his hand, reading the names, locations, dates and more. "You're serious?"

Alec nods. He stood in his room, arms crossed, looking to Reese who had finally seen him after he'd yelled at Hal through the cameras for another half an hour. "I would have shown you earlier but your watchdog thought I was gonna blow the place up or something." He rolls his eyes. "Take the notepad. It's yours."

Reese is still baffled and looks up to Alec, trying to figure him out. "Forgive me for looking a gift horse in the mouth, but why the change of heart?"

Alec shrugs. "Nobody here tried to blow my head off 'cept your tech guy the night we got into his house."

"So?"

He shrugs again. "The Agency did."

Reese is still skeptical. "And it took you this long to figure that out?"

"Look, do you want it or not?" Alec frowns. "They'll hunt me down for this - you might as well be grateful."

"How do I know it's not a trap? How do I know what you wrote down is the truth and not some ploy to have my men walk into an ambush? You say you're selling out the Agency, but how do I know that?"

"Beats me. I guess that's where your own brain comes in. Send a scout. I don't care. But I gave you what you wanted."

Reese just can't believe it. Things Alec had written in this notepad would help immensely in their war with the Agency, if they were true. "I just don't get it." This young man before him was the same, yet different. He still had a look of bold defiance in his eye. His stance was still defensive and he was still ready for a fight. Yet something was... different.

"Then don't." Alec searches Reese's face, not surprised by the lack of trust. But he had made this decision yesterday, and it would stand. He didn't fit on either side, but right now, this was his only chance of survival. This was his only chance at escaping prison. People like Ryan didn't exist behind bars. Ryan didn't exist there. And he knew now that he wanted freedom. He'd never really wanted to go to prison but at one point it had seemed better than living on the right side of the street or being hunted by the Agency. Now though, he was searching for something better. Something worth it. And all he knew at this point was that helping the Elite could help him.

Reese shakes his head and tucks the notepad under his arm. "Okay. I will review what you've given me." He turns to leave, but Alec stops him.

"Gonna lock the door again?"

Reese hesitates, his hand already on the knob. But he releases it without looking back and heads upstairs. Pausing in Hope's door, he knocks. "Hope... there's been a change with Alec. I'd like you to take the time to talk to him again. It's a long shot but... I want to know what you think." It had been quite a while now since the last time he'd had Hope try to talk to the young man, but it seemed time to try it again.

Continuing on his way, Reese stops in the control room to talk to Hal, gains some footage, calls Jason, and finally winds up with the right number. Dialing, he waits, while thumbing through the notepad pages. "Yeah, hi, this is Chief of the Elite, Mike Reese. I'm looking for Ryan McKade."

Darrel's eyes widen just a little. This sounded official. "Hold for a moment and I'll see if she's available." Setting the phone aside, he leaves the office and sticks his head into the garage. "Hey, Ryan!" he calls. "Telephone!"


Ty wanders into the cafe scanning the room for Libby. Not seeing her yet, he finds an empty booth near the window and tosses the driving regulation book on the table. It was way over his head at this point, but all he wanted now was to pass his stupid permit test, and if Libby could help him get that far, maybe it was worth finally swallowing his pride.